


if i let myself go (i'm the only one to blame)

by scepterofstardust



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Assault but nothing graphic, I Made Myself Cry, I know this idea makes 0 sense but just trust me for a bit ok, M/M, Past Child Abuse, a siren yes, also there's a bit of showhyuk :), and also a giant softie who just wants kihyun to be happy, and to love himself, hoseok is a former idol who's lost his sense of purpose, i love yoo kihyun and i don't know why i make him suffer like this, kihyun is a siren in the modern world, like he sings and people faint, oh look it's me projecting again!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-15 22:03:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13622421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scepterofstardust/pseuds/scepterofstardust
Summary: “you won't destroy me, i won't destroy you. it doesn't work that way."“i destroy everything i touch," kihyun laughs, broken glass sparkling at his feet. "so what’s changed?”(or, the one where kihyun thinks he's a monster and hoseok vows to convince him otherwise.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea after a dream at 4 am so please don't judge the random concept, hehe
> 
> *a warning: this fic does contain lots of self-deprecating thoughts and mentions of self harm so if you are in a fragile or unstable head space and it may negatively affect you, please think twice before reading it! i just want to be sure everyone is safe <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sleep deprived and not in the best mental health so please excuse any errors lol i'm trying my best

_Autumn 2004._

 

Kihyun is ten years old. He sits in a chair in his father's meeting room. There's businessmen everywhere, all suffocating suits and charming smiles.

 

(He doesn't think his father is charming. He thinks he looks like a snake when he smiles.)

 

It's a special day, Kihyun remembers, in the haze. There's a lot of those, of course: his father is very important, with his expensively manicured hands in every industry there is. Today he signs another contract, and the company will have a victory dinner to celebrate making another unwilling client submit. That's why he's here.

 

Not because he's too young to be left alone, not because he begged to tag along like a lot of children his age did. Because he is useful.

 

That is all Kihyun has to offer. To his mother, who's drunk too often and can't look him in the eye. To his father, a businessman who values power and wealth above all else. To his brother, their only biological child, who grows crueler every day and likes to play with Kihyun in hopes he'll break.

 

He never meant for them to find out what he was. He never used his power where they could see. They found out anyways, when his brother tackled him to the ground one too many times and dug his knee into Kihyun's ribs. It hurt so badly that he yelled at him to _get off_ , and he realized too late that his words were laced with that inhuman command, that sense of something else, and he knew he had signed his own death warrant. The other boy had obeyed him, instantly, and he was unable to come within three feet of Kihyun for about a month. His father watched him with eyes promising terrible things to come, and eventually, he found himself in his high-rise office, silent and cut off from the outside world.

 

"It's nothing," his father tells him, breath stinking of cigarettes. "Just tell them to sign. They already know they should, they just need a little push. Come on, Kihyun."

 

"But I shouldn't," Kihyun remembers saying, fidgeting with his hands in his lap.

 

His father slaps him and calls him useless. Kihyun stutters that he'll try.

 

The heads of the rival company sign the contract. Because Kihyun stands at the front of that conference room and tells them to.

 

And everyone does what Kihyun tells them to, because he's a siren. 

 

He'd spent his childhood reading storybooks and myths, and that was the closest thing he could find. When he put his mind to it, he could make people do anything. He could tell them to jump off a bridge and they would. It frightened him, but he'd grown used to it, had accepted that whatever it was lived inside of him and couldn't be removed. He and the monster were intertwined, or perhaps, he was the monster all by himself. So be it.

 

Just because he's accepted it, doesn't mean he doesn't hate it. He despises how people look when he uses his power on them, the glazed look in their eyes, the lack of inflection in their voices. He dreams about it sometimes, about all of them coming back to take their revenge and clawing at him until his throat is a bloody mess. His family calls him a monster, a freak of nature, an error; he doesn't have the strength to argue anymore, because, isn't he? What he is is a violation of the natural order, of free will, and he should not exist. He feels like a walking conspiracy, like one wrong breath will bring his life to an end.

 

But it hasn't ended, yet. He wakes up each morning, feeling a little bit more disappointed. He goes to eat breakfast in the kitchen, all conversation dying when he enters the room. He goes to school, comes home, does his homework in his bed because then he can face the door and see when someone is coming. He tries his best not to make anyone angry, because if he's in danger he'll have to use his power, and then he's reminded of the truth. He does not like the truth, so he lies. To himself, mostly. He tells himself he doesn't live here; he lives in a big, busy city in an apartment of his own. He tells himself he's not crushing on a boy in his class, because no one would ever love him as he is and it's not worth even looking his way. 

 

He tells himself that if he makes himself useful, if he does what they want, they'll somehow become the comforting family he so craves.

 

But that night, his brother crawls into his bed again. He holds his hand over Kihyun's mouth and nose until his body blares alarms and he wakes up screaming and unable to breathe. He lies awake until sunrise and wonders why they won't just kill him. They think their son is a monster, so why do they make him suffer like this? Why do they keep him in this claustrophobic house, fearing for his safety?

 

Because he is a _useful_ monster. He is an exception. And they are selfish.

 

Kihyun does not cry that night. He stopped crying far too young.

 

* * *

 

 

_Autumn 2012._

 

Kihyun's breath scorches his throat painfully. He's panting as he runs for his life.

 

"Get back here!" His father shouts. The sound alone makes Kihyun shake at his core, the child inside him terrified into submission, but he keeps going. Frames on the wall rattle as he crashes into them on his way down the stairs. 

 

He sprints through the front room, mercifully empty. He'd planned it this way, to have as little resistance as possible. In all the anxious nights, he'd thought it would make things easier. It didn't. He was scared out of his mind anyways.

 

He slams his shoulder into the door, and he's outside in the cold air, colorful leaves crunching under his shoes. Thunder booms overhead. Hyunwoo's car idles at the curb. Before he can get to it, though, searing pain erupts at the back of his head. His father grabs him by the hair and yanks him backwards.

 

Kihyun makes a sound something like a sob as he's thrown to the ground.

 

"You ungrateful brat!" His father roars, and Kihyun instinctively curls his arms over his head to protect himself, but it doesn't do much. The kicks to his ribs leave him breathless and stunned. Minhyuk is shouting his name, and it wakes him up enough to scramble to his feet. An elbow is driven into his face, knocking him down again, and he tastes blood. Pain explodes in his cheek. His father has him by the neck, like he's a dog that needs scolding. Kihyun is so afraid for his life that he forgets all his rules.

 

 _"Let go of me!"_ He screams, pouring in every bit of power he can muster. 

 

The older man goes rigid like a doll, grip loosening at once, and Kihyun falls flat on the pavement. His father backs several steps away, eyes glassy and empty. Kihyun retches at the sight of it, bile burning the back of his throat.

 

Minhyuk's there suddenly, skinny limbs wrapping him in a protective hold.

 

"I'm so sorry," he's crying, and it breaks Kihyun's heart that he has to be this scared. People like Minhyuk didn't deserve to be scared. (People like Kihyun did.) "We should've come up to the door, I'm so sorry-"

 

"Get him in the car," Hyunwoo says urgently, taking hold of Kihyun on his other side. "We need to go." Before he knows it, he's out of the front yard and sitting in the backseat with all his things. (He'd been passing them to Hyunwoo, a few items at a time, for weeks so he wouldn't have to deal with bags when he ran away.) Hyunwoo climbs in last and takes off, car nearly spinning out as they turn the corner onto the main road.

 

Although his whole head is throbbing, Kihyun is numb. He feels like he's in a dream, like he's been flung so far from reality that he doesn’t even remember his name.

 

Minhyuk takes his chin in his hand, inspecting the damage. His usually smiling face is distraught.

 

"Is he alright?" He can't see Hyunwoo's face, but he knows it's tight with worry.

 

"I don't know," Minhyuk says shakily. "It seems like it's just going to bruise, but we'll have to make sure."

 

"I'm fine," Kihyun croaks, even though he's far from it. He doesn't want to cause them more stress than he already has. Minhyuk's brow furrows, and a moment later, he's laughing incredulously. It's not borne of happiness, but it's more like Minhyuk, and Kihyun feels a little better.

 

(Kihyun became unwitting friends with him and Hyunwoo in high school. They'd somehow seen right through his angry and cold facade and before he realized what was happening, they were a fixture in his life. They did everything they could to protect him, despite how much he tried to push them away. Minhyuk's smiles and Hyunwoo's awkward mannerisms were the closest thing he had ever known to home.)

 

"You really are something else. Like I’d even believe you.” Minhyuk ruffles his hair and shakes his head. Kihyun offers him a ghost of a smile.

 

“You know something?” Minhyuk says, crossing his legs as he sits beside Kihyun. It’s the only way his long limbs will fit in the cramped backseat.

 

“What?” Kihyun asks at a whisper, feeling his eyes burn. He’s too shaken, too exhausted for Minhyuk’s attempts at cheer. Thunder cracks threateningly over their heads again. Rain taps on the roof.

 

Minhyuk throws an arm over his shoulder, tugging him closer with a toothy grin on his face.

 

“You made it, Kihyunnie,” he whispers, pulling him against his white t-shirt. “You made it.” Kihyun huffs out a tired laugh, letting himself lean into Minhyuk just this once.

 

He’s going somewhere far away, controlled by no one but himself. He’s got a job lined up. He’s going to live on his own, without fear of anyone or anything (except maybe paying rent.)

 

It doesn’t feel real, not yet. But it will.

 

* * *

 

 

_Autumn 2014._

It’s over.

 

That’s all Hoseok can think, standing in front of his apartment.

 

(Well, it’s not really his. When he moved to Seoul, he and Hyungwon rented it together. He moved out when he passed the auditions at the company and they required he live in the dorms with the other trainees. He doesn’t come here except to spend time with his friends.)

 

It’s going to be his again, now. It has to be. He can’t go home to his mother and look her in the eye and tell her that he wasn’t good enough. She deserves better than that, better than him. He needs to stay here and take time off. Try to figure out what he’s supposed to do now.

 

He came here to become an idol. There’s plenty of people who want to be one, who want the stage, the fans, the dreams. He thought he had something special, that his big heart and selfless ways would make an impression as much as his voice and production skills did.

 

So far, he hasn’t been proven right. His company has cast him aside, along with several other trainees. They gave some sort of excuse, some numbers, ratings, he wasn’t really listening. As soon as he saw the faces of the men in that conference room, he knew it was over. As much as he wants to deny it, it’s a waste of time and emotion. He needs to process it and move on.

 

After he stops feeling like a stake’s been driven through his chest. As soon as he stops crying.

 

Hoseok wipes at his face, trying to find what composure he has left, and opens the door. His hands are full of his things, the clothes he’d accumulated and all his producing equipment, and he struggles to get through the opening.

 

He walks in and spots Hyungwon lying on the couch, expression slightly irritated as always. Changkyun and Jooheon are wrestling with each other, running around him and laughing. It’s a familiar scene, and Hoseok feels a bit less like the world is ending. Changkyun is the first one to notice his presence, and he smiles, dimples on display.

 

“Hey, hyung! You’re early.” Hoseok says nothing, swallowing thickly. He doesn’t want to break the news to them. Doesn’t want them to know he’s a disappointment.

 

Changkyun blinks, confused at his lack of response. His eyes flit between Hoseok’s expression and the bags in his hands.

 

“Uh…hyung, what is all that?” Jooheon stops messing with Hyungwon’s hair to see what he’s talking about, and he tilts his head inquisitively. Hoseok looks between them, shifting his weight nervously.

 

“Is something wrong?” Jooheon knows something is off, of course he does, and he goes still. His words finally bring Hyungwon’s attention, and he glances up from his magazine. He locks gazes with Hoseok, and a moment later, he exhales wearily.

 

“They cut you off,” Hyungwon guesses quietly. Hoseok gulps, nods. His vision is blurry now. The silence swallows him whole, but all three of them are headed towards him in a heartbeat.

 

“Oh, hyung,” Jooheon whispers, pulling him into a hug. “I’m so, so sorry.”

 

The tears come before he can stop them, and Hoseok is collapsing into him, the breath knocked out of his body. Changkyun and Hyungwon join the hug, their warmth comforting, and Hoseok is sobbing helplessly.

 

“I tried,” he’s saying, “I did everything they asked me.”

 

“We know,” Hyungwon murmurs, hand firm between his shoulder blades.

 

“T-They were so horrible to me, b-but I fixed everything they told me to.”

 

“We know, Hoseokie. It’s okay.”

 

“M-my mother,” Hoseok cries, “I’m going to h-have to t-tell her that I let her down.” Changkyun shakes his head, eyes fierce.

 

“You didn’t fail her, hyung. This is the company’s fault. You’ve done nothing wrong.” Hoseok shudders, holding onto them as tight as he can.

 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

 

“You’ve got us, hyung,” Changkyun assures him quietly. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.”

 

Hoseok is trying to catch his breath, and after a moment, he laughs shakily.

 

“Like I would trust you with anything.”

 

“Hey!” Hyungwon slapped him on the back. “That’s the spirit, but I’m still offended.” Hoseok manages a watery smile, choking a little as he tries to stop crying.

 

“Come into the kitchen, hyung,” Changkyun says, squeezing his arm. “We’ll make you dinner. You’ve got plenty of time to figure things out, but you need to eat.” Hoseok starts to get up with them, but then he frowns.

 

“I’m sorry, you’ll _what?_ ” 

 

“Don’t sound so skeptical!” Hyungwon protests. “I can make ramyun, I’m not totally hopeless.”

 

“I have the fire department on speed dial just in case, we’re safe.” Jooheon flashes a thumbs up. It makes Hoseok laugh again, and it almost feels like a regular night, like he has nothing to worry about.

 

“...Alright. Let’s go supervise.”

 

* * *

 They end up on the couch at the end of the night, joking around and watching a drama that’s playing on TV. Eventually, four episodes in, the others drift off, becoming quieter as their energy drains and eventually going totally silent. Hoseok, though, remains wide awake. He tries his hardest to empty his mind, to let himself go, but it’s in vain. Everything swirls inside him, banging around until he can’t even hear himself think. He’s awake until the sunrise, tears slowing until he feels hollow. Hyungwon is snoring softly, head on his lap, and Changkyun and Jooheon are curled up under the blanket, fast asleep. It’s peaceful, but his chest hurts, and his thoughts spin in vicious circles until he feels like he’s falling from some great height, fumbling uselessly for something that’s not there anymore. He’s in the place he called home for several years, with his best friends, but he doesn’t feel right.

 

 _It will be alright,_ he thinks. _It'll go away, this feeling. You'll heal._ _Time heals all wounds._

He hopes, but it goes nowhere. He knows, now. He knows that was when he started feeling lost.

He also knows he has not yet been found.

 

* * *

 

_Autumn 2017._

 

It was a cold, autumn night when Hoseok first saw Kihyun.

 

He was jogging from his taxi to the restaurant, huffing in annoyance. The traffic was horrendous, and he was late. He could hear Hyungwon scolding him already.

 

The bell above him jingles as he pushes the door open. Instantly, he spots Hyungwon in a booth at the back, looking infuriatingly perfect as usual with his black silk button up and a thick choker around his neck. Across the table from him were Jooheon and Changkyun, both dressed to the nines and giggling boyishly at whatever joke they'd just told. Predictably, Hyungwon rolls his eyes and refuses to laugh. Hoseok chuckles and strides across the floor to them, and his friend sighs as he slides into the booth beside him.

 

"Am I going to have to limit the reflective surfaces in your apartment? You said you were getting ready forty minutes ago."

 

"Hyungwon, I only have one mirror." Changkyun and Jooheon don't bother to hide their snickering, and Hyungwon shoots them a poisonous glare.

 

"Don't listen to him, hyung, I'm sure he thinks you look good," Changkyun assures him, trying not to giggle. Jooheon affects wide-eyed disbelief.

 

"What, a fashion icon like Chae Hyungwon? No way!" Hyungwon calmly picks up a salt shaker and feigns like he'll throw it, making Jooheon yelp. Hoseok grins, amused.

 

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, I don't know that I'd call Hyungwon an icon just yet," Hoseok teases, and Hyungwon swats at his arm. "He's just a really good model."

 

"Don't be cheesy," Changkyun complains. "Take that outside."

 

"No," Hoseok refuses, pinching Hyungwon's cheek. He ignored the scathing glare that earned him. Had he been anyone else, Hyungwon might have skinned him alive, but they were childhood friends and the taller boy definitely had a soft spot for him. "Never."

 

"Hoseok, I will dump this ice water on your head," Hyungwon warns him exasperatedly. Hoseok lowers his hand with a smirk.

 

"So, where are we going tonight? As usual, I was told nothing, except that I shouldn't look like I've been in the studio until 5 am all week." Hyungwon's annoyance fades quickly, and his eyes glitter with excitement as he smiles.

 

"You do look good," he admits. Changkyun snorts. "We're going to see the siren."

 

"The siren?" Hoseok echoes, puzzled. 

 

"There's a theatre near here, very old," Hyungwon begins, swirling the straw around in his drink. "You know it?"

 

"The really fancy one with all the statues? I've walked past it a few times."

 

"That, my friend, is where the siren performs. It's quite exclusive and you wouldn't know about it unless you were in the right circles. He's their most prized performer." Hoseok raises an eyebrow.

 

"You're so mysterious. How do you even know about this?" His friend shrugs.

 

"I have my methods. Anyways, the shows are absolutely incredible. He usually sings a few songs and then they have food and wine."

 

"A singer?" Hoseok was intrigued. "How talented are we talking?"

 

"He's amazing," Hyungwon asserts. "He makes you feel drunk."

 

"Jooheon could barely walk after the first time," Changkyun adds smugly. 

 

"Neither could you," Jooheon reminds him, making the younger flush a light pink at the memory. Hoseok shakes his head and takes a deep breath.

 

"This sounds like a new level of questionable, even for Hyungwon. You must really be bored." A smirk crawls across Hyungwon's lips.

 

"Ah, you know me so well. I've got extra money to burn, thanks to that show in Milan. Let me take you out, you deserve it after working all week." Hyungwon elbows him playfully. "You won't regret it, I promise."

 

"Well...okay. As long as we're not going to end up in the police station or something."

 

"No, no police tonight," Hyungwon swears, hand pressed to his heart. "Unless they're strippers."

 

"Hyungwon!"

 

"You didn't say that was off the table."

 

 

* * *

 

Hoseok thought he was prepared for whatever he was being dragged into.

 

But nothing could have prepared him for this.

 

He follows the others into the theatre, admiring the freshly polished marble floors. There were easily hundreds of people milling about in the lobby, all dressed in their finery. Hyungwon confidently navigates through them after a man takes their tickets, and Hoseok barely processes all the silk and jewels shining under the chandeliers before they enter the ballroom.

 

Hoseok stops dead in his tracks, too stunned to keep himself from staring.

 

The ballroom was gigantic, a size he imagined belonged only to royalty. Everything, from the chandeliers dripping with crystals to the stage closed off by a velvet curtain, seemed entirely out of his league. The staircase his feet were planted on was covered in luxurious violet carpet, and the others had paused a few steps down to laugh at his amazement. He shakes his head, smiling despite himself. The others lead him to their seats, somewhere in the maze of mismatched chairs.

 

Hoseok lets his gaze wander as he tried to fathom what sort of situation he's gotten himself into. "So this is, um...."

 

"Shady?" Changkyun supplies, unconcerned as he peered at something on Jooheon's phone.

 

"You could say that." Hoseok crosses his legs, shifting uneasily in his seat. "When does the show start? We're being stared at." Despite the fact that Hyungwon and the others looked exquisite today, it was still obvious that they were not the sort of client that came with a bottomless bank account.

 

"You get used to it," Jooheon says, waving a hand in dismissal. "Ignore them."

 

"He's right," Hyungwon soothes, patting his arm. "Relax. You said you were feeling anxious this week. This will make you forget. They don't matter." Hoseok forces some of the tension out of his body and smiles gratefully at his friends.

 

"Well, I trust you," Hoseok says at last, settling back in his seat.

 

"A mistake," Changkyun acknowledges, flashing a cheeky grin. Hyungwon nods sagely.

 

"He's right. I am evil, you know." Hoseok chuckles.

 

"I'll remember that the next time you show up at my place unannounced and hog all my blankets." Before his best friend can smack him for that comment, the chandeliers start to dim, and the ballroom falls into absolute darkness.

 

"This is making me nervous," Hoseok whispers. He can't make out Hyungwon's face, but he hears his (alarmingly sadistic) laugh next to him. It was that laugh that usually indicated he was planning something or delighting in your discomfort. Hoseok wasn't dumb enough to deny that it was probably the latter.

 

"Oh, it gets far scarier than this. Just be patient." Hoseok grimaces, noticing the crowd has gone completely silent. A moment later, the curtains start to rise, and Hoseok expects the usual obnoxious cheering that happens at concerts, but there isn't a sound.

 

The stage lights switch on, a soft golden glow, and Hoseok's jaw drops as the man his friends call the siren strides out of the wings.

 

He's breathtaking.

 

The siren is a delicate thing, all soft curves and thin limbs. He's the picture of fierce beauty, nose sharp and eyes, hidden by icy blue contact lenses, rimmed with kohl. Feathery lashes flit against his full cheeks as he glances downwards, sizing up the crowd. Lips painted a glossy red curve into a smirk at whatever he sees. His hair is ash gray and styled into a fluffy part. He moves with an unnatural grace, bare feet padding softly over the ground. He doesn't make a single noise as he walks to center stage, and it feels like the entire ballroom has been swallowed up. Delicate chains, adorned with small crimson jewels, glint at his wrists and throat. The singer's wearing a suit, pure black with lapels edged in silver. Beneath the jacket, there is only smooth, unblemished skin, and Hoseok shivers at the boldness the man must possess to wear such a thing, especially amongst the wealthy patrons. At the way he's eyeing the audience as if they are the ones exposed and not him.

 

The siren daintily perches atop the black metal stool that had been set out for him, curling his feet beneath him like a feline, and Hoseok cannot tear his eyes away, cannot summon any of the other questions he'd had. 

 

"Thank you for coming, everyone," the siren says, and Hoseok stares at him, taken in by something he can't name. He doesn't wonder how his voice could possibly carry that clearly without a microphone, doesn't wonder if he should get the hell out of here because this is definitely drugs or something equally abnormal.

 

He just wants to hear him sing.

 

And after a few moments of people rustling and what looks like bodyguards flanking the stage, he does.

 

It tears Hoseok apart.

 

His voice is absolutely gorgeous, unearthly and fluttering. The song is old, perhaps centuries so, something sung to children back when life was simpler and safety was promised. It sounds so sweet that Hoseok can hardly breathe.

 

He feels completely vulnerable, completely pliant, but it feels like someone's clawing his stomach open and it _hurts_. Panic crawls sluggishly into him, but it's not enough to make him run. (He's not sure that he could, if it occurred to him to do so-his muscles feel like jelly.) Hoseok's nails dig into the armrests of his chair, and he gasps.

 

"Quite a show, isn't it?" Hyungwon murmurs in his ear, the smirk evident in his voice. Hoseok's too shell-shocked to respond.

 

He sits frozen in his seat for a duration he can't really calculate, a few minutes probably, and then suddenly the siren is standing and bowing, and the crowd is roaring its approval. Hoseok jolts, standing up to clap, and nearly knocks Hyungwon over.

 

"Easy," Hyungwon laughs, gripping his shoulders. "You're not gonna feel good if you jump around like that." 

 

He's right. Hoseok's legs are wobbling, and his head is pounding. He realizes that dried tears are streaked down his face, too, and scrubs at them clumsily.

 

"What," he croaks, letting Changkyun and Jooheon push him towards the stairs, "What just happened?"

 

"Deep breaths," Hyungwon coaxes calmly. "You're gonna feel dizzy for a few minutes, but you'll be fine."

 

"This is," Hoseok wheezes, "not normal, is there drugs in the air or something-"

 

"Shush." Hyungwon and the others are guiding him up the stairs to the lobby. "There's not, don't worry."

 

"But how do you know?" Hoseok asks insistently, making Hyungwon sigh. They arrive at the refreshment bar, and he's grateful to sit down so the room will stop spinning.

 

"I know the manager. Believe me, it's not drugs. You're just new to this. I'm gonna go get drinks, okay? Stay here." Jooheon and Changkyun stand next to Hoseok, irritatingly casual as they chatter amongst each other. The oldest just stares at the crowd, vision slightly blurry. The patrons pass by him quickly, but a flutter of movement, traveling the opposite direction from the crowd, catches his eye. 

 

Hoseok watches, entranced, as the siren exits from a side door into the lobby, a long coat pulled on over his stage outfit. In this light, when he's silent, he looks much smaller than Hoseok remembers. His fingers barely poke out of his sleeves, and his bangs are beginning to break free of the hair product to cover his eyes. His stage makeup looks a little extreme now, too much blush and eyeliner when he's closer. Despite the fact that he's out of his element, he walks with the same grace, and he lowers his head to slip through the throngs of people unnoticed. Someone, however, must have noticed, because one of the men in the crowd reaches out to grab his arm. The siren turns back to look at him, and he says something, brows furrowed in annoyance. A second later, he starts trying to pry himself free, squirming uncomfortably, and something about it sets off alarms in Hoseok's mind. Before he fully makes the (admittedly poor) decision to intervene, he's already getting up and shoving through the crowd. The siren and the stranger are playing tug of war now, and the singer looks frightened, eyes wide as he whispers something too hushed for Hoseok to make out. He's almost to them when the siren finally wrenches his hand away. Instantly, he's clamping it down on the stranger's shoulder, pushing in close.

 

"You will turn around," Hoseok hears him hiss. His voice is completely unlike the performance. It's frigid and full of rage. Ice shoots down his spine at the sound of it. "You will let me leave. You will go straight back home. You will not bother _anyone_ else on your way there." Hoseok expects the man to make a scene, to protest, but strangely, he does as he asks. He turns around obediently and walks towards the exit without another word. Hoseok is utterly confused, but his attention is stolen by the siren, who slips through a crack between patrons. A doorman pulls open the door for him, and his hips sway as he walks out into the night, confident again. Hoseok is intrigued by the abrupt character change, and he stares for far longer than what's probably considered appropriate.

 

"There you are," Hyungwon says, appearing at his side. "I thought I told you to stay put."

 

"Sorry," Hoseok replies absentmindedly, watching the singer as he crosses the street. Hyungwon scoffs at his halfhearted response, peering out the window to see what he's looking at.

 

"That's odd," Hyungwon comments, squinting. 

 

"What is?"

 

"All the other performers here have bodyguards that escort them home, but he doesn't have any." Hoseok recalls the darkness of the singer's voice, the hard edge to his eyes. _You will let me leave._

 

"Maybe he doesn't need them."

 

"I don't know about that. He's pretty skinny, I feel like he's the sort of guy that would get robbed in a dark alley and beat up."

 

"You're also pretty skinny."

 

"But I'm tall, you see. I'm intimidating."

 

"I don't know about that." Hyungwon huffs and tries to kick him in the calf, but Hoseok pushes him away easily.

 

"He's really something, isn't he?" Hoseok doesn't need to clarify who he's talking about.

 

"He's breathtaking." Hoseok considers the retreating form, watching the singer's hips swish with every step. "Is he even human? He can't be." 

 

"Knowing the owner of this place, probably not." Hyungwon is studying his face, something that forever unnerves him. His best friend is incredibly intuitive, and he always seems to know what Hoseok's thoughts and intentions are without having to ask. Sometimes, he knows them before Hoseok himself does. It makes it harder to be reckless with his feelings.

 

(Harder, not impossible. Hoseok always seems to set himself up to be hurt anyways. He keeps giving pieces of himself despite knowing he shouldn't.)

 

"He's not just breathtaking, Hoseok. He's untouchable." Hyungwon's expression is suddenly serious, and Hoseok swallows thickly.

"I've been going to his shows for as long as he's been a performer here. Never once have I seen him with another soul. Not even friends, or a manager." Hoseok lets out a long breath. Hyungwon knew, of course he did. "I know that look in your eyes. Whatever you're thinking, you should probably quit."

 

"Hyungwonnie...I'm not going to chase after a stranger." It doesn't feel like the truth, and Hoseok's stomach twists a little.

 

"Of course not." There's a warning in Hyungwon's tone, still, but he drops it, knowing that pressing Hoseok will only make him more defensive. "I got us some wine. Let's go drink to lighten your headache, yeah?"

 

"I don't think that's how drinking works," Hoseok sighs, relieved the conversation is over. He lets his friend drag him back to the bar, and he lets himself forget the beautiful singer with the icy eyes. At least for tonight.

 

 

* * *

 

_At least for tonight._

 

It's the weekend after the concert, and Hoseok's just finished his run. He quiets the music in his headphones and slows to a walk, chest heaving. Following his routine, he walks laps on the trail in the park to cool down, slowly gaining his breath back.

 

It's about the fourth lap when he starts to feel like something is off. His heart beats just a little quicker, and the hair on the back of his neck stands up in warning. He walks a little faster, but when it doesn't go away, he comes to a stop, eyes narrowed.

 

Someone is definitely watching him.

 

Hoseok glances around him, turning in a circle, and at first he doesn't see anyone obvious. Eventually, however, he hears the faint click of a camera shutter, and then he sees its owner. Hoseok scowls directly at the stranger and stalks towards them, sure it must be some misguided journalist after him for his past with idol companies, and they flinch before lowering the camera. 

 

It's the siren.

 

Hoseok slows only feet away, everything in him freezing up. The siren looks worried, and he's started stuttering out apologies, but it takes Hoseok a moment to process his words.

 

"Um, I'm really sorry, I-it was an accident, I'll delete them if you want..."

 

"I...um." The siren is looking up at him expectantly, but Hoseok can't finish. He feels like he should be dropping to his knees, feels intimidated despite the singer's smaller size. His words die in his throat, and for a moment the two just stand there silently, blinking at each other. Hoseok tries to remember how to breathe. At last he manages a shaky laugh.

 

"H-Hey, don't worry. As long as I look good in those, I won't complain." He smiles, and the singer nervously returns it, lowering his camera.

 

"You aren't...angry?" The singer asks cautiously. Hoseok almost laughs again, but the fear in the other man's posture is clearly genuine. He's expecting Hoseok to be furious.

 

"No, no, it's okay. Don't worry about it," Hoseok says gently. The singer shifts his weight, and his smile melts into something more honest.

 

"I am sorry, I just...I couldn't help it." Hoseok at last grows brave enough to walk closer, head tilted in curiosity. The singer watches him come, fingers fiddling with his lens cover. 

 

"Why's that?" 

 

"Um, I just..." The singer makes an expansive gesture at the scenery around them. "I like to take photos here, and you walked into my frame..."

 

"Did I ruin your shot? Sorry," Hoseok chuckles.

 

"Oh, no, not at all," the singer hurries to say. "You just..." Hoseok raises his eyebrows. The singer sighs and anxiously flicks at a button on his camera. "This is going to sound stupid."

 

"Say it anyways," Hoseok says before he could stop himself. "I promise I won't laugh."

 

The singer seems confused, but obliges him anyhow.

 

"I, um-I was just taking your picture because you seem interesting." 

 

"Interesting? Is that good?" The singer nods hesitantly.

 

"I guess."

 

"What did you find so interesting?" Hoseok was intrigued now, not only by his reasons but by the way the sun was shining through the leaves and falling on his gray, wavy hair, by the way his pants hugged his thighs and his peach satin shirt hung off his thin frame just right, showing the soft curve of his hips. The singer bites his lip, and Hoseok scolds himself for staring. 

 

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but you come off as...tired. Restless. You seemed so far away in the middle of all those people. When you were walking on the sidewalk, you seemed like you didn't even know where you were. Which couldn't be true, because your dialect is local," the singer says in a rush. Hoseok can't stop his jaw from going slack. 

 

"How-"

 

"The confidence in your walk used to be real, but it isn't anymore. You're well built, and you show it off on purpose knowing that it's a useful distraction. If people are too busy looking at what you've made yourself into, they might not notice that you're aren't certain who you are in the first place. Am I right?" The singer waits for his answer, eyes wide and almost eager. Hoseok could swear his heart's stopped in his chest.

 

"You..." Hoseok falters, and he feels the telltale stinging in his eyes. He blinks away the tears and tries his hardest to find his footing again. "Yes, you're...you're right." His voice cracks, and he hates himself for it.

 

"Sorry," the siren says quietly. "I...can't help myself sometimes. I didn't mean to upset you." The obvious guilt on his face pulls Hoseok out of his daze. He waves a hand in dismissal, smiling slowly.

 

"I'm...no, I'm not upset, I just...how can you do that? That's amazing." The singer seems taken aback at his reaction.

 

"Well, you're certainly the first person to say that," he confesses sheepishly. "I've always been very good at reading people. At knowing what they want most. It's just something I do without realizing it."

 

"It seems that you're talented in many aspects of life, then," Hoseok marvels. The singer scratches the back of his neck, looking away.

 

"I guess so, yeah." Hoseok realizes too late how strange that sounded, and groans inwardly. The singer rocks back on his heels and offers awkwardly,

 

"Um, well, anyways. I'm sorry for bothering you. Thank you for being so understanding, I should get going now." The siren turns away and begins to walk, as graceful as Hoseok remembers him. He's halfway down the path when Hoseok calls out to him.

 

"Wait." Hoseok knows he should let him go, should stop whatever his stupid fascination was before it festers into something he can't control, but he wants to be selfish, just this once. He wants a little more time.

 

"You know, I'd like to see those photos if you don't mind. I want to know if I haven't been hiding my tragic backstory as well as I thought." The singer laughs as he sits on a bench, and it's the prettiest sound Hoseok has ever heard in his life. He scrolls through the photos one by one, both of them craning to look at the small screen. He's right, Hoseok does look lost, on the sidewalk and standing under the trees. He looks vulnerable, in that way that everyone does when they think no one is watching. It makes his mouth dry, knowing that the singer saw him for who he was that quickly.

 

It makes him feel lighter, somehow, too. If anyone was going to see it, it may as well be this man, so delicate and cautious sitting beside him, but so unwavering when he ordered that man to leave him alone, when he sang to hundreds of people and looked into the crowd as if he could see through every one of them and rip them to shreds. Curiously enough, his fears feel safe with him. With this inhuman, who has pitch black eyes without his stage contacts. Somehow, it makes his gaze even more unnerving than before.

 

When Hoseok leaves the park that afternoon with a business card in his pocket and a promise to ship him a print of his favorite photo if he sends an email, he feels much better than he has in a long time. He's at ease, even if he can't explain why.

 

A knot somewhere in his chest loosens as he peers at the black paper on his bedside table. 

 

_Yoo Kihyun._

 

He tries the name a few times, rolling it over in his mouth, learning how it feels in his throat. He decides that he likes it.

 

When Hyungwon asks him to come to the theatre a month later, he can't agree fast enough.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the chapters in this fic popped up in my brain because of music so, I'll be leaving the song that inspired each one in the notes if you want to listen as an added bonus! ^^ The song for this chapter is Shame by DyoN Joo. Also, the song that Kihyun is singing is supposed to be Lavender's Blue, an old English lullaby :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What is it that you're so afraid of?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! i'm so so sorry it took me this long to update ;;; i saw lots of people subscribed though so hopefully if you were interested, you'll see the update in your inbox! <3 thanks for reading!

As it turned out, that was only the beginning. Hoseok came up to Kihyun after a show a month later and asked him to have coffee. They made a tradition of it - sometimes coffee, sometimes dinner, sometimes drinks. They stumble into cabs at four a.m. and wave each other goodbye. Kihyun always wakes up to texts from Hoseok: _How did you sleep, I had fun last night, Your show was amazing._

 

_You're so cute when you laugh._

 

They're meant to go out for barbecue one night. Hoseok starts for the entryway to meet Kihyun, more or less steady. (He's gotten used to the effects of Kihyun's voice. It only makes his hands shake a little now.)

 

He catches sight of him in the crowd, a small figure bundled up in a winter coat. He stops.

 

A man is cornering him, the same man that Hoseok saw the first time he was here. He's leering in Kihyun's face, saying something he can't make out. He pokes Kihyun in the shoulder, and then grabs him by the arm. Hoseok barely catches the ripple of terror in Kihyun's eyes.

 

He shoves his way to them, ice thrumming in his veins. He knows that Kihyun can help himself, but it doesn't make him any less angry.

 

"Hey, baby!" He calls out to Kihyun, only steps away now. Kihyun turns to look at him, confused. They're close, but Hoseok's never called him a pet name for fear of making him uncomfortable.

 

"Sorry I'm late, let's go back to my place," he says, looping Kihyun's free arm through his. He yanks hard, practically dragging Kihyun out the door. The man doesn't follow them.

 

"Fuck, you're strong," Kihyun curses, stumbling after him. "I need my arm to stay attached, please."

 

"Sorry," he says sheepishly. Kihyun shakes his arm out and glances behind them. The man's already disappeared into the crowd again.

 

"Who was that? Why were they harassing you?" Hoseok asks worriedly. "I've seen him there before, too."

 

"I have no idea who he is," Kihyun shrugs. "I wrote down his license plate number, though. I have a friend that's a police officer. Maybe I'll ask him to find out."

 

"Aren't you concerned?" Hoseok questions, eyebrows furrowed. "He could be dangerous."

 

"I doubt it," Kihyun sighs. "Probably just another drunk man with repressed homosexual tendencies."

 

Hoseok wants to point out that the man didn't look inebriated in the least, but he nods, falls silent. He trusts that Kihyun knows what he's doing.

 

"So, did you still want to get dinner?" Now that they're standing still, he notices that Kihyun looks pale. He's digging in his coat pocket, brow furrowed. "Hey, you okay?"

 

"Yeah," Kihyun replies, cracking a smile. He pulls a small metal container from his coat.

 

"What's that?"

 

"Just some pain medicine. I get headaches a lot," Kihyun explains, pausing to swallow a pill. “Performing triggers it sometimes.”

 

"Ah." Hoseok frowns. "Do you feel up to going out? If it's like a migraine, I don't want to make you."

 

"Actually, yeah...I don't want to deal with the noise, but..." Kihyun scrunches up his nose apologetically.

 

"Do you want to come home with me? I can make you dinner there. My roommates should all be out tonight." Kihyun's eyes widen.

 

"Really? You'd do that?"

 

"Of course. What, has no one ever made you dinner before?" Hoseok laughs.

 

"No one except Hyunwoo. He's the only one allowed to cook in that house."

 

"Who's Hyunwoo?"

 

"My friend from high school. His boyfriend Minhyuk tried to cook for me once, but there was a whole onion in the spaghetti, so..."

 

"A whole onion?" Hoseok repeats, stunned.

 

"Let's just say he's banned from anything that isn't pre-made."

 

"For the greater good," Hoseok says solemnly. Kihyun chuckles.

 

"I'll introduce them to you sometime. Now come on, I'm hungry."

 

* * *

 

After they eat, and Hoseok washes the dishes, Kihyun saunters up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist.

 

"Hi," Hoseok says teasingly. "What are you doing?"

 

"Mmm...nothing." Kihyun bounces on his toes and squeezes harder.

 

"Ki, I can't reach the dishwasher," Hoseok laughs. "Why are you taking me hostage?"

 

"Wanna ask you something," Kihyun says into his sweater.

 

"Okay. Go ahead." Kihyun says nothing, but Hoseok hears him sigh. He sets down the plate he's holding and turns around, gently prying Kihyun from his back. He only latches on again, burying his head in Hoseok's chest.

 

"Ki, what's wrong? You know you can talk to me, right?" Hoseok asks softly.

 

"I know," Kihyun admits. "I'm just nervous."

 

"Well, don't be. I'd never judge you, I promise." There's a few moments of silence, and he feels Kihyun take in a deep breath.

 

"Hoseok, what am I to you?" It's not really what he had expected, but Hoseok takes it in stride. He starts rubbing Kihyun's back.

 

"Well, you're my boyfriend, of course." Kihyun nods. "You're a wonderful artist. I used to be in the music production business and I've never met anyone as talented as you. You're very brave for performing in front of people, and for being on your own most of the time. Not everyone can do that. You're a kind person, I could tell by the way you lit up talking about your friends, and by the way you treat me." Kihyun pulls back, and he looks into Hoseok's eyes, searching.

 

"And what..." he starts, barely audible. "What's the first thing you think of, when you see me?" Hoseok swallows thickly.

 

"Honestly?"

 

"Yes." Kihyun's gripping his sweater so hard his knuckles are turning white.

 

"I think..." Hoseok bites his lip. "I think that you're precious. You're precious to me. I see you and...I can hardly remember anything else. Whether the day was good or bad, you're all that matters. You're important to me, and I..." Hoseok's throat is closing up. "I...I think I'd die if you got hurt. Or if I hurt you. I would be beside myself."

 

"Precious," Kihyun repeats, staring up at him. "You mean that?"

 

"With all my heart," Hoseok murmurs. Kihyun leans up to whisper in his ear.

 

"Will you show me, then?"

 

Hoseok shivers.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time Hoseok wakes up, Kihyun is long gone. The sheets still smell like him, like firewood and bergamot. On his bedside table is a silver picture frame, holding the photo of him that Kihyun took in the park.

 

 _For the lost one,_ the note beside it says. _I hope I found you._

 

* * *

 

 

That morning, Kihyun takes a bath in his apartment. He lets the water cradle him and stares at the ceiling, lost somewhere far away.

 

He can still feel Hoseok's hands on his skin, smell his cologne and his sweat. He can still feel his arms around him and the wind that had come in through the window. He can still hear the sharp gasp as Kihyun said, _Be a good boy for me._

 

It's breaking his heart.

 

He doesn't know why he did that. He never, ever, gets intimate with anyone - he's never had a relationship that lasted long enough for that. He's not comfortable showing his body, letting himself be vulnerable and giving someone the power to wound him.

 

So why, when he was with Hoseok, did he never think twice?

 

He can't help it anymore. There's something about the way Hoseok's eyes glitter when he smiles, about the way he looks at Kihyun when he sings, not like he was just another puppet under his spell but someone who reveled in his power, who drank it in like he couldn't breathe without it, who saw him on stage and knew that while he was a god, he was human, too, and humans needed to be held together. There was something about Hoseok's arm over his shoulder and his broad back covering Kihyun's entire frame, about how he had held Kihyun all night, hugging him close like he was afraid Kihyun would break if he let go. It made Kihyun want to kiss him, made him want to hold Hoseok's hand, made him want to never leave his side.

 

More than anything, it made Kihyun feel safe again. He had spent his whole life singing for survival, fending for himself. Hoseok made him want to give all of that up.

 

Some part of him knew, that Hoseok would take care of him, would make him feel like being this inhuman was worth it - but he was too afraid to risk it. He was brave in everything but this.

 

He can't let Hoseok in any further. He can't look him in the eye and tell him that losing him would feel like dying. Then, he'd have to be at Hoseok's mercy, and nothing terrifies him more.

 

Then, he'd have to admit that it was real.

 

* * *

 

The next performance Hoseok attends, he knows something has changed.

 

The last show Kihyun had done was something gentle, lulling you to sleep before you even knew what was happening. This was like an open wound, raw and angry.

 

_"You won't understand the cause of your grief, but you'll always follow the voices beneath..."_

 

The candles at the edge of the room are guttering, threatening to plunge them into complete darkness.

 

When he passes Hoseok, he pauses, a barely perceptible skip in beat. Kihyun's face is tense, defensive.

 

"What's wrong?" Hoseok whispers. Kihyun swallows hard and looks the other way. He brushes Hoseok’s shoulder before he leaves, and it feels like a shock from an electrical outlet. He flinches, skin stinging. Hyungwon gives him a concerned look that he waves off.

 

By the time the spotlights go out, and people flood the lobby, Hoseok is burning to get to him, hold him and ask him what's hurting.

 

Unsurprisingly, Kihyun doesn't let him. He bares his teeth in a fake smile and leads Hoseok to the coffee shop across the street. He manages to make it for nearly an hour, small talk about work and friends and funny anecdotes.

 

"Kihyun?" Kihyun's sipping his drink, but that can't hide the fear in his eyes. He knows he's run out of time.

 

"Yeah?" He replies tentatively.

 

"I can tell something's going on with you, and I just...I just want to help. If it's something I did, or...whatever it is. Please just tell me."

 

"You haven't done anything," Kihyun says quietly, staring down at the table.

 

"Then...what's bothering you? Please let me in." Kihyun nearly flinches at that. Hoseok thinks he doesn't trust him, but it's the exact opposite. He trusts him too much. _Too much._ His throat is closing up, and his eyes are beginning to burn.

 

"This...this is killing me, Ki. Please." Hoseok looks so worried, and he's stroking Kihyun's arm gently like he's soothing a frightened animal.

 

He's trying to calm him, and Kihyun hates how well it always works. One touch from him, one squeeze of his hand, one smile or laugh and he's breathing again. He doesn't understand.

 

"I-I don't feel well," Kihyun blurts out. A clumsy excuse.

 

"Is it your head again?" Hoseok asks softly. He nods silently. There's nothing else he can do.

 

"Do you want me to stop by the store to get some medicine?" Kihyun shakes his head, and he closes his eyes, suppressing a sob that's rising to the surface. He can't stand looking at Hoseok any longer. He hates lying to him, to his caring eyes and quiet voice. Hoseok deserves someone better than him. Someone who's happy with themselves and can give that happiness to him in return.

 

For the first time in his life, Kihyun can offer nothing. It hurts more than he thought it would.

 

"No, I just..." He can't cough up the right words to get Hoseok's gaze off him so he can go home and bathe in the silence.

 

"Just what?" Hoseok is holding his hand now, and Kihyun wants to flee.

 

 _I was just scared_ , he thinks. _I was just scared and you saw through me like always. I was just glad to see you. I was just wishing I could tell you I needed you without my pride getting in the way. I was just wishing I could refuse to take all that you give me, because it would be easier. I was just wishing I wasn't so weak and didn't let you give all of yourself to me when I give nothing in return and pretend to be ignorant of it all. I wish I wasn't-_

 

"I just...need to go home and sleep it off," Kihyun manages, wiping at his face with his sleeve. "I'm sorry."

 

"It's okay. I didn't know it was that bad. Let's pay and then go, okay?" Kihyun nods, guilt welling up in his stomach. "I'll be right back."

 

When Hoseok returns, he puts his arm around Kihyun and takes him outside. Kihyun's dizzy: lightheaded with shame and anxiety, and his steps aren't as steady as he wants them to be. (He can't resist being close to Hoseok. He never can. He can't say no.)

 

But he has to. For his own good, and for Hoseok's.

 

* * *

 

Hoseok calls Kihyun a cab, but stops him from getting in.

 

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you? Will you be okay by yourself?"

 

"I'll be fine," Kihyun assures him, looking at the concrete. "Really."

 

"Isn't it dangerous? What if you faint?"

 

"Hoseok," Kihyun says quietly. "It's okay." His gaze is empty, like he's gone blind and he doesn't know Hoseok's face from a passing stranger's. Hoseok's stomach churns painfully. Something is wrong, he knows. He just wishes Kihyun would let him find out what it was.

 

But he loves Kihyun, helplessly. So he lets go.

 

"Get some rest tonight," Hoseok murmurs at last. He tries to ignore the lump in his throat. "I'll see you next week." Kihyun nods and smiles weakly. He hesitates for a moment, and then gets into the car and drives away.

 

* * *

 

 

The worry eats away at him until he thinks he'll go insane. He checks his phone every thirty seconds, in case he's texted, or called, or he needs something, or-

 

"Hoseok," Hyungwon groans. His friend is sitting beside him at the bar, nursing a drink that looks decidedly lethal. "Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, or do I have to interrogate you?"

 

"Oh, everything's fine," Hoseok says tightly, putting his phone down with some difficulty. "It's nothing."

 

There's a moment of silence. Hyungwon snorts.

 

"C'mon, Wonnie, at least pretend you buy it," Hoseok laments. "I can't be that bad of a liar."

 

"No," Hyungwon shrugs. "I just know you, that's all."

 

"It's, um...it's about Kihyun. I'm really worried about him. The last time we talked, he seemed...I don't know. Distracted. When he thought I couldn't see him, he looked so sad. He wouldn't tell me why, though. He wouldn't tell me anything." All his roommates knew about them - they'd all gotten along even though they'd only met a few times. Kihyun had promised to legally adopt Jooheon and Changkyun to keep them out of trouble.

 

"As I thought, you two make the perfect couple," Hyungwon laughs. "You'll run in circles around each other trying to hide your problems until somebody gets hurt, right?"

 

"That's...not encouraging."

 

"Sorry," Hyungwon backs up. "What I mean is, you're better than this. I know that you're only concerned for him, but you may need to push him for answers. If he loves you as much as he seems to, he'll understand that you have good intentions."

 

"You make a good point," Hoseok sighs. "It's just...hard, you know? I don't want to scare him away."

 

"If he runs," Hyungwon says seriously, "Then he was never worth it in the first place."

 

"I know," Hoseok says, and he feels a tightness in his chest. "I just don't think I could withstand that."

 

"Whatever happens, happens," Hyungwon replies softly. He puts a hand on Hoseok's arm. "Go to him and figure out whatever this is. I don't want to see you suffer." Hoseok feels his heart squeeze tight. "I will pick you up again, if this doesn't work out. I don't want it to come to that, though."

 

"Wonnie..." Hoseok whispers. "I know you don't."

 

"I've had enough," Hyungwon mumbles, staring down into his drink. "I've seen enough. Just...do something."

 

"I-"

 

Hoseok's phone goes off. Startled, he flips it over.

 

_[Kihyun has shared a location with you.]_

 

_can you come_

 

Hoseok is already fumbling for his coat. "Hyungwon, I-"

 

_please_

 

_help me_

 

 _"_ I think I have to go."

 

_it hurts_

 

"I...shit, I really have to go, um-"

 

"What's wrong? Is it him?" Hyungwon asks worriedly.

 

"Yeah, yeah, um - I'll text you later, okay?"

 

"Okay," Hyungwon replies. He waves a hand in dismissal. "Go, go. Tell me about it later."

 

* * *

 

 

The door to Kihyun's apartment was unlocked. (He assumed it was Kihyun's apartment. He didn't really know.)

 

All sorts of alarms start blaring in his head. Kihyun was extremely guarded. He would never leave his door open like this, unless he was too occupied to remember. Unless he was upset, hurt, bleeding, worse. There were too many possibilities, each more horrifying than the last.

 

Hoseok shoves the door open and runs inside. He barely registers the decor. It's mostly pale colors, almost royal, and it suits Kihyun well. He stops abruptly, before the tile of the entryway meets the carpet. He gapes.

 

His whole body freezes up with horror. Broken glasses and what looks like alcohol bottles are littered all over the floor, multi-colored shards sprinkled like a deadly sort of confetti.

 

Kihyun is sitting on the kitchen island, looking disproportionately small in comparison to the high ceilings. He's dressed nicely, as always, but the fabric is rumpled, and he's not wearing shoes. His chest is heaving as if he's just run a marathon, and his face is flushed red. Bottles are scattered on the countertop behind him.

 

“Kihyun,” Hoseok says, and he means it to be louder, maybe even worried, but his voice sputters out like an engine that won’t start in the cold.

 

Kihyun doesn’t seem to hear him. He grabs an empty wine bottle on the counter in shaky fingers and hurls it across the room. It shatters into a million pieces, making Hoseok flinch. Kihyun’s hand closes around another container, clear, probably vodka, and Hoseok lunges across the apartment. He stops him just in time. His wrist feels like it'll snap in two in his grip. So delicate, so fragile, always.

 

"Kihyun, put it down," he breathes.

 

Kihyun was looking at him with glazed eyes. In them he saw anger, most of all, but a vulnerability behind that. His expression flickers between the hard, defensive Kihyun he knows and a child about to burst into tears. Slowly, he puts the bottle back.

 

"Are you drunk?"

 

"Mm, no," Kihyun replies.  

 

"You're so drunk."

 

"Maybe," Kihyun giggles. Hoseok stares at him, dumbfounded. Normally Kihyun is so collected, so controlled. Seeing him like this is jarring.

 

"Are you alright?" He asks skeptically.

 

"Of course," Kihyun says enthusiastically, flashing him a thumbs-up.

 

"How much did you drink?"

 

"Like, this many?" Kihyun replies dubiously, holding up a hand.

 

"Maybe more than that?"

 

"Maybe," he muses.

 

"However many it was, it was too many. I'm just glad you aren't out somewhere." Hoseok frowns worriedly. "Is this why you asked me to come over?"

 

"Huh?" Kihyun scrunches up his nose. It would be unbelievably cute in any other situation.

 

"You texted me."

 

"Did I?" Kihyun shrugs. "Don't remember."

 

"It was only thirty minutes ago, Ki. What the hell did you drink?"

 

"Everything," Kihyun snorts, waving a dismissive hand. "It's fine."

 

"It's really not."

 

"Anyway, I don't let _strangers_ into my house," Kihyun informs him seriously, pointing a wobbly finger in his direction. "So I don't know why I'd do that."

 

"I'm not a stranger," Hoseok sighs. Kihyun tilts his head. "And the door was unlocked."

 

"Why not?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Why aren't you a stranger? That's weird of me."

 

"I don't know, Kihyun," Hoseok says softly.

 

"Well, whatever," Kihyun relents. "You're here now, I guess." He hops down from the counter, nearly crumpling to the ground in the process. Hoseok wavers, unsure if he should grab him, but he regains his balance at the last second.

 

"Want a drink?" Kihyun asks as he trips over the threshold.

 

"Someone here needs to be sober," Hoseok says ruefully. "So no."

 

"Mm...'ppreciate that. Always the responsible one."

 

"What happened, Ki?"

 

"What, this?" Kihyun shrugs again, gesturing to the glass that’s exploded everywhere. "I happened. Don't worry about it."

 

"I kind of feel like I need to," Hoseok manages, shell-shocked. "What, did you do all this?"

 

"...Yeah," Kihyun affirms, staring at the floor. He seems meek all of a sudden.

 

"What for?"

 

"Was mad," Kihyun mumbles. "Sad, too, I think." Hoseok turns to face him, incredulous.

 

"Are you still?" He asks carefully. Kihyun doesn't answer. He sighs and crouches on the floor, taking a paper towel from the counter. He starts carefully sweeping the glass into a pile.

 

"Answer me when I'm done, then, okay? I'm going to get rid of this so you don't hurt yourself."

 

Once he clears away a big enough area, Kihyun sits against the counters, dropping his head into his hands.

 

"Scared," he says quietly. "I was scared."

 

"Why were you scared, Kihyunnie?" Hoseok questions gently. He sits cross-legged in front of Kihyun. "I know something's going on. You haven't been acting like yourself at all."

 

"I know," Kihyun says miserably.

 

"Tell me what you've been thinking, hm? I bet it'll make you feel better." Hoseok smiles encouragingly. Kihyun stares blankly at him.

 

"It won't. It'll just make you hate me."

 

"Ki, I could never hate you. Ever." Kihyun laughs dryly.

 

"If you say so. You know that man? Y'know, when you dragged me off, that one time..."

 

"The one who was bothering you? Why, was he doing it again?"

 

"No...Shownu looked up his car. He's, um..." Kihyun trails off, eyes cast down again. His hands are clasped together anxiously. Hoseok waits patiently.

 

"He's a nightmare," Kihyun whispers.

 

"What do you mean, Ki?"

 

"I'm so scared," Kihyun continues shakily. "But it doesn't even matter."

 

“How could that...not matter?" Hoseok asks, confused.

 

"Because there's you," Kihyun says. He raises his head and looks directly into Hoseok's eyes. They're still clouded over, but Hoseok's never seen him more serious.

 

"Me?"

 

" _You're_ all that matters," Kihyun says fiercely. "It's stupid."

 

“Ki, that’s not _stupid_ ,” he says indignantly.

 

"It is. I-I have all this going on, and I haven't even figured myself out, but then you come along and...nothing else matters. I just want you, I just want...this. But I'm scared that I'll lose you.” The sudden admission makes Hoseok feel dizzy. “I'll lose feeling safe, again. I can't take that, Hoseok. I would break. I've been hoping that if I kept my distance, I would stop caring, but it didn't work.”

 

“Things don’t work like that, Ki. People care about each other. You can’t just make that disappear.” Hoseok was drawing circles on Kihyun’s shoulder, attempting to soothe him.

 

“You have the power to break me and there's nothing I can do," Kihyun says, distraught. He looks like he's going to cry. “I should never have let that happen.”

 

“What is it that you’re so afraid of?” Hoseok asks, keeping his voice neutral. If Kihyun will tell him, maybe he can dispel his fears, if even a little bit.

 

"What if you don't want me?” Hoseok makes a pained noise.

 

"Why on Earth wouldn't I?"

 

“All things good,” Kihyun says matter-of-factly, “All things bright, and happy, run from me. I’ll ruin everything you know.”

 

“No,” Hoseok shakes his head insistently, “I don’t believe that.”

 

"You should," Kihyun slurs, leaning down to meet his eyes with an exasperated expression.

"I'm a _monster._ "

 

"Why would you say that?"

 

"Everyone else does," Kihyun says with an exaggerated shrug.

 

"Everyone else is wrong, Kihyun."

 

"That's cute that you think that," Kihyun giggles, and Hoseok knows that distant, mad glimmer in his eyes. Self hatred isn’t a foreign thing to Hoseok. He knows it well, and he can see it there, somewhere deep in Kihyun, festering until it nearly consumes him. He hides it so well, but he can't hide anything right now, trembling on his kitchen floor with broken glass shining at his feet.

 

"Tell me,” Kihyun says.

 

"Tell you what?"

 

"Tell me, what is this obsession of yours?"

 

"Kihyun, I have no idea what you're talking about."

 

"This...this obsession with...saving broken things." Kihyun laughs darkly, leaning against the cabinets. "It's stupid, you know. Trying to save other people is the fastest way to destroy yourself. Unless, of course, that's what you want."

 

"Kihyun, I don't think...I don't think you're seeing things for what they are. You won't destroy me, I won't destroy you. It doesn't work that way."

 

"I destroy everything I touch," Kihyun snorts. "So what's changed?"

 

"Is this really what you think of yourself?" Hoseok asks, tears rising in his eyes. "Has everyone been so cruel to you that you think you're a...a monster?"

 

"Don't think. I am," Kihyun corrects him, eyes narrowed.

 

"Kihyun, I...I don't know what's been said to you. I don't know what's been _done_ to you, but that isn't true."

 

"It is."

 

"Ki," Hoseok chokes. "Please don't say that."

 

"Don't cry," Kihyun says icily. "It's not worth it." Hoseok stares back at him, his heart shattering.

 

"You hate yourself," he croaks unsteadily. "This much." Kihyun hums noncommittally and reaches to pick up a piece of glass. He holds it up to the light and studies it.

 

Then, he squeezes it in his fist. Red instantly blooms between his fingers. Hoseok grabs his wrist and pries his fingers open with a startled curse. The glass clatters back onto the tile.

 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Hoseok gasps. Kihyun tilts his head inquisitively.

 

"What?"

 

" _Kihyun,_ " Hoseok pleads. "Don't hurt yourself like that! I understand that you're upset right now, but that's not the answer!"

 

"I-I just-"

 

"Ki, you're scaring me, please stop it!" Hoseok begs, still holding onto him. The tears are finally slipping free, sliding hot down his face as he locks eyes with Kihyun. There's a moment of silence before the smaller man's face crumbles.

 

"I'm sorry," he hiccups, tears spilling down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean to, I-"

 

"Oh, Ki," Hoseok whispers sadly. "Come here." He takes Kihyun into his arms, holding him tightly.

 

"I'm s-sorry," he cries into Hoseok's shirt. "I-I don't know why..."

 

"It's okay," he shushes him. "I'm here now, I've got you."

 

"D-Don't be mad," he sobs. "Don’t be mad at me."

 

"I'm not mad," Hoseok murmurs. "I just want you to be safe."

 

"I-I'm not," Kihyun stammers, "You...you keep me safe. You do." Hoseok strokes his hair, pausing thoughtfully.

 

"Ki, I love you very much. I just wish I could make you love yourself like I do." Kihyun shudders like a cresting wave.

 

"I-I can't," he blubbers, defeated. "This is...this is all I know."

 

"Then let me help you," Hoseok says softly. "I can't promise it'll fix everything, but I can promise I won’t stop loving you."

 

"Really?"

 

"Ki...you're the most beautiful person I've ever known. I'm not giving up on you just because you've given up on yourself. You deserve better than that.” Kihyun’s fingers are digging into his arms, red lines in their wake.

 

“You deserve better,” Hoseok repeats.

 

* * *

 

 

They retire to Kihyun’s bed, a goliath in the corner of the apartment. Hoseok drags Kihyun onto the mattress with him, and he gives no protest, body limp against his. Kihyun doesn’t bother changing, and his button up is mangled, collar hanging open and revealing most of his chest. Eyeliner is smudged across his face. His breath reeks of alcohol.

 

“Why do you keep saying these things?” Hoseok asks him. “You seem so...convinced. I don’t understand.”

 

“It’s because of my powers,” Kihyun says dully. He’s lazily tracing his fingers across Hoseok’s shirt. His hand is bandaged now, rusty color leaking from between the layers of gauze. It takes a moment for his words to sink in.

 

"What?" Hoseok's eyes widen. _What could he possibly mean by that?_

 

"You know," Kihyun says with a shrug. "That feeling you get when I sing, the nausea and the dizziness. It’s not a drug. That's my power. I don't know who gave it to me, or why, or if there's any fucking _purpose_ to any of it.” The bitterness in his tone triggers dread in Hoseok. If he were less serious, he might have thought it was a metaphor, but - Kihyun isn’t lying this time. The cold distance in his eyes is real, raw.

 

Powers.

 

“It’s just a…” Kihyun drags in an exhausted breath. “A curse I have to bear.”

 

“A curse?” Hoseok questions shakily.

 

“The gods...I mean, if there is such a thing...they’re punishing me.” Kihyun closes his eyes, expression pained. “I must have been worse than this, in a past life. That’s the only reason I can think of.”

 

“You think you’re being punished?” The question echoes in Hoseok, as if he’s become hollow. Kihyun nods.

 

“You have to understand,” he murmurs slowly. “I’ve walked through hell. No one...no one has ever treated me like you do.”

 

“I’m sorry.” It’s all he can think to say. What else _can_ he say, when the damage has already been done?

 

“I never had a chance at anything other than this,” Kihyun mumbles into the pillow. “You don’t need to be sorry for me. It won’t change what I am.”

 

“What you are?” Hoseok sighs. “Kihyun, whatever you might be, I love you. That has to count for something.”

 

Kihyun opens his eyes. He seems seconds away from sleep. He doesn’t smile.

 

“How can you love me?” He whispers. Hoseok feels the urge to cry again crash into him, the force squeezing air from his lungs.

 

“Are you ever going to believe me?”

 

“Maybe,” Kihyun laughs drowsily. “Maybe.”

 

* * *

 

 

Hoseok wakes up to quick footsteps, circling the bed and then echoing in the kitchen. He sits up blearily, rubbing at swollen eyes.

 

Kihyun freezes. He’s dressed impeccably again, black jeans and a tucked in t-shirt. There’s dark circles beneath his eyes, a gray film over his skin that only comes with fierce hangovers.

 

“Well,” he says hoarsely. “I guess a clean getaway is no longer an option.”

 

“You were leaving?” Kihyun looks defeated. He throws his coat on the ground.

“I can’t now. You’re doing the eyes.”

 

“The eyes?” Despite the situation, Hoseok is amused.

 

“Yes. Kicked puppy eyes,” Kihyun replies reluctantly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’re a master.”

 

“I wasn’t aware,” Hoseok chuckles. Kihyun gives him a half smile, then looks down at his lap. There’s a dimple in his chin, the one that always appears when he’s thinking hard.

 

(Or when he cries. Hoseok doesn’t want to think about that right now).

 

“So,” Hoseok says, taking the plunge. “You have powers?”

 

Kihyun winces.

 

“Yeah,” he confirms sheepishly. “I guess.”

 

“Why?” Hoseok questions, head spinning. “How? I’m kind of...struggling here.”

 

"I really don't know," Kihyun admits. "I wish I had answers for you. I've kind of given up trying to find out. There's only so much research I can do before I get locked in a mental facility, you know?”

 

“Maybe it's a mutation, like the X-Men," Hoseok suggests helpfully. Kihyun laughs loudly, throwing his head back.

 

"Yeah, maybe," Kihyun says, patting his cheek. "You're so cute." Hoseok grins widely.

 

“I am sorry, though,” Kihyun tells him, dropping his hand. “I didn’t intend to tell you. It just sort of slipped out because I was…” Kihyun tilts his head. “Well. I was vulnerable.”

 

“Does anyone else know?” The other man hesitates.

 

“Hyunwoo and Minhyuk, the friends I told you about. They’ve known me since high school.”

 

“I see. I’m sure you must trust them a lot, right?”

 

“I’d trust them with my life,” Kihyun says warmly. “I have.”

 

“I’m glad. What about your family? Were they at least able to protect you growing up? I mean, I’m sure it was a shock for you…”

 

Kihyun’s mouth flattens into a thin line. He goes silent. Hoseok feels his stomach drop.

 

“I’m sorry, you don’t need to answer that. I shouldn’t have asked.”

 

“It’s alright,” Kihyun says at last. “Don’t worry about my family. They…” He trails off. The look in his eyes is nothing short of haunted. “They’re dead now.”

 

“Oh,” Hoseok says dumbly. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

 

“It’s alright,” Kihyun says again. “Hyunwoo and Minhyuk were enough, anyway. It’s not as if it matters.”

 

“It does matter,” Hoseok says gently, “but we don’t have to talk about that right now. I’m glad you found people you could count on.” Kihyun smiles faintly.

 

“Shouldn’t you be...having more of a reaction? I mean, I’m not complaining, but I expected more.”

 

“Well…” Hoseok shifts his weight on the bed. “I don’t know. I’ve felt the... _powers_...myself. It’s not that hard for me to believe.”

 

“You should be scared of me,” Kihyun says bitterly. “I meant every word.”

 

“Ki…” Hoseok scoots down the bed to sit beside him. “I may not...really understand everything but, please let me be there for you. I know that you can do this alone, but I don't want you to."

 

"I don't want to, either," Kihyun’s tone is stubborn. “It’s just been the way of things.”

 

"Then don't." There’s a mole at the corner of Kihyun’s mouth, one that Hoseok’s kissed countless times. He has to resist the urge to do so now.

 

"Kihyun, I need you to listen to me." The smaller man lifts an eyebrow.

 

"What is it?"

 

"Are you listening?"

 

" _Yes_ , I'm listening," Kihyun says wryly.

 

Slowly, Hoseok cups his face. He stares directly into his eyes, black and seemingly endless. Kihyun doesn’t pull away, as he expects him to.

 

"You. Are not. A monster. Do you hear me?" There’s that wrinkle in his chin again, and Kihyun shakes his head. Like it’s not an option.

 

"Do you hear me, Kihyun?" Kihyun nods, with his lip trembling, and his lashes flutter against bloodshot eyes. He lowers his head, face pressed against Hoseok’s shoulder. “I am not afraid of you. _I am not afraid of you._ ”

 

"I'll try to believe you,” Kihyun chokes out. “I’ll try. I promise.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by:  
> Warrior's Song - 도깨비 (Goblin) OST. For bonus content, listen to a recording of Mordred’s Lullaby! (The song Kihyun is singing in the theatre scene.)

**Author's Note:**

> I will try to update as frequently as possible, thank you for your support! Please feel free to chat to me in the comments <3
> 
> If you want to talk to me about Monsta X, Kiho, this fic, anything really:  
> @lunatic_yoongi on twitter  
> @scepterofstardust on tumblr


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